The Last Night
by Enchantable
Summary: Set between 2x19 and 2x20, with nowhere left to turn Jenna gets answers from the one person she doesn't trust enough to be hurt by.


**This is pre-sacrifice and was a request for a friend whose really stressed right now. My apologies to ppl who are reading "carry me home" but the plot bunnies wouldn't let this one die. Especially not after seeing the 'Klaus' episode and the way that Elijah looks at Katherine and how he looks when he says he doesn't believe in love. Given recent events, it's more a bittersweet fic than one with the potential to become something more. **

**So this takes place between Jenna finding out about Vampires and when she's wielding a crossbow/looking totally not creeped out by Elijah's presence when Alaric comes back. **

* * *

The brandy slid like liquid fire down her throat.

Jenna drank greedily, thankful that the burn of strong alcohol remained the same, even as the world got turned on it's head. That was the problem with the old boarding houses. Eight bedrooms and only one wet bar. Thankfully the other occupants of the boarding house were otherwise occupied and Jenna found she had the stately main room to herself. Just her, her blanket and the brandy she was consuming in a last ditch effort not to spend the night tossing and turning and imagining the face of her seventeen year old niece's boyfriend become the stuff of nightmares.

And Alaric _hunted_ them.

Shaking her head, Jenna tipped back the glass in an effort not to think about what was going on. It was all too crazy to comprehend. She felt like the world had been shattered, like her boyfreind's dead wife showed up on doorstep or her ex admitted to fathering her niece. But most of all she felt like an idiot. All of it was so obvious she was stunned she hadn't picked up on anything before. The scar on her stomach itched, like it was in on the joke and Jenna wondered if that too didn't have something to do with the fact that everyone she knew had been playing her for a fool for years.

It wasn't like she could ask any of them for answers. She knew it was immature and foolish but every time she thought of speaking to them, all she could think about was the lies they had told. What if they lied again to 'protect' her? What if they didn't think she was ready for the truth? Glancing down at the half empty crystal bottle, Jenna realized they could have a point. Glancing back up she stiffened with a sharp inhale at the sight of the figure who had not been there moments before.

"My apologies," Elijah said, "I did not mean to startle you."

"You-" Jenna began, blinking in an effort to see if he was truly there, "you're supposed to be gone."

It seemed he was not. The elegant man stood as picture perfect as always, his only concession to the late hour made in his rolled up sleeves and unbuttoned collar. He examined her carefully, but if he disapproved of anything she was doing it did not show on his face. Rather he simply adjusted his hands, drawing them behind his back in a gesture Jenna had come to recognize as one he did frequently.

"Yes, but I have returned," he said, "it seems my business in Mystic Falls is not yet complete."

"You're staying here?" she asked, earning a nod from him.

Jenna looked down at the glass in her hand, icy fingers of fear pricking down her spine. It was impossible and yet, tonight seemed to be one filled with impossibilities coming true. Slowly she raised her eyes and looked over at the man in front of her. Elijah Smith from the historical society in town to do research. It was all a perfect cover with a perfectly anonymous name to go with it.

"What's behind your back?" she asked, trying and failing to keep the trembling out of her voice.

Elijah's features hardened, his lips pressing together in what Jenna knew would be the greatest show of frustration she would get out of him. Instead of answering her, Elijah walked into the room. Jenna cringed, pressing herself against the wings of the armchair as he walked forward, staying close to the far side of the coffee table in acknowledgement of her obvious discomfort.

"You know I have no patience for games," he said placing the packet of blood on the coffee table and seating himself on the leather couch.

"You're one too," she said, her voice rising, "oh my God is everyone in Mystic Falls a Vampire?" she demanded, jumping to her feet.

"Hardly," Elijah said, "though this town does have a history with the species," he glanced at her, "I suggest you sit down. You are still in shock, quick movement is unwise."

"I can't believe this," Jenna dropped numbly into the chair, cradling her head in her palms, "how old are you?" she asked. Elijah raised an eyebrow, "is that rude to ask a Vampire?"

"No," Elijah said, "I will be one thousand years old this May," he added leaning forward and picking up the blood packet, "do you mind? I am still weakened after an attack."

Still feeling out of her body Jenna shook her head. A thousand? The number seemed vague and unsubstantial since the man sitting in front of her barely looked a day past forty. Elijah rose to his feet and walked over to the wet bar, picking up another crystal tumbler. Walking back over to where she was sitting, he bent down and picked up her fallen one, filling it from the bottle on the carpet and offering it to her. Jenna looked at his hand as if it was going to explode.

"This will help," Elijah said, prompting her to take the glass, careful not to touch his fingers. Elijah walked over to the table and mixed a generous amount of liquor in with the blood in his glass, "how much have you been told?" he asked.

"I can't-" she trailed off with a shake of her head, "i can't listen to them right now."

Elijah studied her carefully as he consumed the blood slowly, ignoring his primal instinct to ravage the blood. He was still surprised at how weakened he was by the dagger, how it still felt as if the ash was flowing through his veins. The blood helped but even hours later it was a struggle to consume it with some dignity in tact. He imagined that ripping open a blood packet with his fangs would push Jenna over the edge and that would not go far in Elena's book.

"I can't believe you're a thousand years old. You don't look a day over forty," Jenna said with a shake of her head.

"I was turned at the age of thirty five," Elijah said with a look that could have been mistaken for slight offense at the age she gave him, "though that was considered an old age when my turning took place."

"But-" Jenna looked at him, "you had family. Kids? A wife? Are they Vampires too or did you just-" she trailed off helplessly.

"My wife died shortly after I was turned and I had no children," Elijah said his features closing off.

"Oh," Jenna said, "I"m sorry."

Elijah raised a skeptical eyebrow, as if he was not expecting her to offer condolences for a woman who had been dead a thousand years. Jenna looked at him blankly, not certain which rules of social propriety applied to Vampires. The whole situation was surreal. As if any minute her alarm was going to go off and she was going to be woken up to find this was all a dream. Miranda, Vampires, all of it would be nothing more than a dream. Maybe she'd get really lucky and John wouldn't even be in town.

"Wait, how do you walk around in sunlight?" Jenna asked, "and I've seen you eat garlic," she frowned, "and while we're on the subject, why do your fangs only come out at certain times?"

"There are many legends about Vampires," Elijah said, "garlic is one of them. However, in high, concentrated doses it will make it difficult for Vampires to conceal their fangs. As for sunlight," he held up his hand, showing her the ring on his finger, "this ring is enchanted to protect me from it's affects."

"Which are?"

"Burns. It will take a Vampire, depending on age and strength, a very short time to suffer severe burns."

"And that ring protects you?" she repeated. Elijah nodded, "alrght then what happened I saw Stefan's face?"

"He was responding to a threat," Elijah said, "the younger a Vampire is, the less practiced they are at responding to threats. Though in this case, his response was appropriate," he paused, "unwise, but appropriate."

"Why?" Jenna asked, "who was in Ric's body?"

It was on the tip of Elijah's tongue to lie to her, but one look at Jenna's face and he knew the action would be unforgivable to the young woman. Oddly the idea of offending her seemed slightly distasteful to him. She had been used many times, her connection to Elena making it almost frighteningly easy to manipulate her in order to hurt the current doppelganger. If his long life had given him anything it was a dislike for the unnecessary waste of human life.

"A very old Vampire by the name of Klaus, with the aide of a very powerful witch. Given that it has been a few days, I would imagine he is back in his body and Alaric is recovering from his ordeal."

"Oh that does not make me feel any better," Jenna said with a low groan, leaning forward to cradle her head in the palm of her hands. Elijah waited patiently as she drew her hands across her skin before pressing her fingertips to her lips in contemplation, "I know I'm going to regret this question but why is this Klaus possessing Ric?"

If the day had been less stressful, if the situation had not been so dire, Elijah would have laughed at the way Jenna said his name. No fear, no horror, just disgust at the fact that this 'Klaus' would posses her boyfriend. He could perfectly see the sneer that would adorn Klaus' face if he could see the fact that this human was not terrified of him.

"Your niece, Elena," he said.

"And is that why you got close to me?" Jenna demanded. Elijah looked at her, meeting her eyes without any shame and Jenna felt anger crash into her, "you son of a bitch!"

She was on her feet before she realized what she was doing, her anger overriding any sense of self preservation. In the next instant, Elijah was on his feet. It took barely a fraction of power to cross the space to her, catch her when she was barely out of her seat and deposit her back in the plush armchair. He was back in his seat before she had time to blink but the effects of the rapid movement had already revealed themselves as Jenna doubled over with a groan, cradling her head between her knees.

"I understand you have been through a great deal," Elijah said mildly, "but do not mistake my willingness to answer your questions as your own strength to combat Vampires."

"Then why are you answering them?" Jenna demanded.

Elijah looked down at her. To her credit she met his gaze without flinching, though he could see the difficulty she was having focusing her eyes. It was a valid question, one that deserved answers. Answers he was not prepared to give her. Instead he held her gaze for a moment longer before breaking it to consume more blood, trying not to think about how cold the stuff in his glass was. Not to think about how warm the blood that pulsed through her was.

"Rapid movement is another trait of the Vampire," he said instead, "my apologies for using it on you, the first time can be nauseating, but you are still in shock and I am still weakened."

"Are you saying you'll drink me?" she demanded, "you've got blood right there."

"I assure you I am in full control of myself."

"After a thousand years I'd hope so," Jenna said after a moment.

"See that is why I find your company more desirable than most," Elijah said leaning back in the chair, "world shattered and yet you still manage to be sarcastic."

Jenna's eyes narrowed as if she was attempting to see whether or not he was mocking her. She shifted her weight against the chair, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Elijah was quiet, waiting for her to speak. Jenna toyed with the fabric stretched over her knees, running her fingers across the frayed fabric. A thousand year old vampire sat across from her. Elijah Smith the historian who had lived through most of the history they had discussed. Who had manipulated and lied to her but was oddly willing to answer her questions since he claimed to find her pleasant company.

"So all of this is because of Elena. You, Stefan, Damon, even Ric," she shook her head before looking at the Vampire, "Elena's a great kid, but she is a seventeen year old girl. What could she possibly do for a thousand year old Vampire?"

"Nothing," Elijah said, "your niece is important to Klaus."

"And you're not going to tell me why," Jenna finished, "that's the thing you pick to be secretive about?"

"In her stories, did your sister tell you about the strange trait in the Gilbert girls?" Elijah asked, "how every so often one girl will look identical to another?"

"Yeah but that's just a story-" Jenna began before stopping, "oh," she said, realization crashing over her, "so Elena's the doppelganger?"

Her tongue easily curled around the world and in his head Elijah could imagine her sitting with her sister, Miranda carefully pronouncing the words for Jenna. Jenna who always had to know more, who always went ten miles further than was asked of her. Who thirsted for knowledge unlike anyone he had met in at least three centuries. He nodded his confirmation to her, frowning lightly when she sat back with a shaky exhale.

"She's a Vampire, isn't she?" Jenna said, "the other one."

"Yes."

Slowly Jenna drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them in a failed attempt to feel secure. There was an identical, Vampire Elena, probably in Mystic Falls somewhere. A Vampire Elena that she probably had invited into the house. Who she had probably invited into her house, who she had interacted with. She was supposed to be Elena's guardian. She should have known if she was in the presence of someone who looked like Elena but wasn't. Yet she had been none the wiser.

She had been a complete idiot.

"How old is the doppelganger?"

"What does it matter?"

Elijah frowned at the look she gave him at his brush off of the question, unsure of where Jenna was going with the question. Answering questions about himself was an act he found distasteful but manageable. There was, however, a part of him that would never feel comfortable discussing Katerina. And after the day he had living in the past, the notion of answering so many questions about her was one he was not certain he could entertain.

"I want to know how old you have to be in the Vampire world before you know that it's not okay mess with the life of a seventeen year old girl," Jenna snapped.

"Your niece is not a 'seventeen year old girl'," Elijah said, the barest edge of frustration in his voice, "she is a Petrova doppelganger,"

"She's still a kid!" Jenna argued, "she can't vote or legally drink. What gives any of you the right to ask her to be this, this sacrifice?"

"It is not a right or a request," Elijah said, "no more than it was of the last Petrova doppelganger who was the same age."

"Then it was the first Petrova's fault," Jenna shot back, "doppelgangers are copies of someone. So there was an original Petrova," she continued, "so it's her fault?"

"No."

Jenna stared at Elijah. The reply he gave was short, angry even. His face went past the guarded expression she was used to seeing and straight to shut down. Abruptly Jenna felt as if she had crossed some invisible boundary. Clearly whoever the original Petrova was, Elijah did not think she had done anything wrong. Or at least, anything that would condemn two teenage girls to a life of torment. Jenna felt her eyes narrow. If they were doppelgangers and complete copies of this original girl, and if the other Elena had suffered half as much as her niece did, then this original girl had messed up. Big time. And while Jenna considered that she was a seventeen year old girl as well, the thought of what Elena had suffered filled her with indignation and a hollow laugh escaped her lips.

"Yeah, right," she said with a shake of her head.

His reaction was instantaneous. His careful mask seemed to break and for one perfectly endless moment anger showed in his eyes. Unmasked the rage would have been terrifying had it not been edged with the kind of pain Jenna knew she would never be able to comprehend. Then, without another word, he set down the glass of blood and walked out of the room, cold fury radiating off of him. Jenna's eyes widened as she stared at the archway through which he had disappeared before the sound of the door opening reached her ears. It was the oddest reaction she'd seen from him yet and even though it sent warning signs flying up she still scrambled to her feet and bolted for the door as fast as her jellied legs would allow her to.

"Wait!" she shouted when she reached the door, her eyes scanning the deserted driveway, "damn it," she cursed, running her hands through her hair.

What had she done? She'd found the one person she could listen to, the one person who was willing to explain the situation to her and she'd gone and fucked it up. She should have taken the hint he was giving her and focused back on the current situation, instead of being so adamant on finding someone to blame for Elena's lot in life. Half blinded by the stinging in her eyes, Jenna looked around the foyer until her eyes landed on the narrow silver letter opener that lay by the door. Running over to it she grabbed the weapon and then ran back to the door, stepping onto the smooth stones and closing the front door behind her.

Acting on every story she'd heard from Miranda and every not-surivial instinct she'd learned from b-movie heroines, she sliced the letter opener across her palm.

The sting of it was vicious, even after all that she had been through and a gasp escaped her lips as her torn skin stung. Quickly dark blood welled up and spilled over the edges of the tear as Jenna stood there, praying that the act would only bring back the Vampire she'd managed to offend and not the others who wanted her to be dead. Forcing her fingers open, Jenna looked out at the darkness, trying not to jump at the sound of the breeze in the trees or a bunny running through the woods.

She focused only on standing there, not on what she would actually do if Elijah thought she was a midnight snack. He'd said he was old, said he had control but Jenna didn't know if his temper took over that control or if it would hold at the sight of her injury. Worse, she did not know if she would be happy that he found her blood tempting or terrified. She'd always thought he was attractive but the idea of him draining her in some kind of vampire come-on made her stomach twist itself into knots.

Jenna didn't have time to decide before an inhumanly strong hand gripped her shoulder and she went from standing outside the door to pinned to the living room wall before she had the time to blink.

A gasp escaped her as she the letter opener clatter to the stone a moment before the sound of the door shutting reached her ears. Her back was pressed against the wall as tightly as it could be, her other hand laying flat against it. Her injured hand, however, was being held by Elijah's. A white handkerchief was rapidly turning red with her blood as the Vampire applied pressure to the wound before elevating her hand to help staunch the flow of blood.

"You are in a house with three Vampires, in a town with many more, not all of whom hold your best interest at heart. Try not to bleed."

"Sorry," Jenna apologized clumsily, her head still spinning, "I wasn't trying to-" she met his gaze, determined not to act more like a child, "I just-" she took a breath, fighting against fear, "I wanted to apologize for offending you back there."

Elijah searched her face, surprised to seen genuine guilt written there. In spite of the fact that he had lied to her as well, the fact she did not know or trust him seemed to place him in a different category than the houses' other occupants. Even with her apology it was difficult to reign in his anger. The notion that 'offending' him was what she had done back there was laughable. He was not quick to offend or to anger and running away had never been his first reaction. But he knew that if he had stayed in the room with Jenna he would have ripped her throat out and delighted in the satisfaction it brought him. And that, would never do.

He reached out to the wall and took her other hand. Instantly he felt her heart pick up it's tempo, the blood rushing to color his cheeks. For the second time that night he felt his hard won control begin to fracture as a delicate shade of rose painted her cheeks before the color deepened. This time his desire to sink his fangs into her had nothing to do with her penchant for bringing up buried memories or past pain. It was purely because he could smell her and he knew that she would taste delicious. Guiding her hand over her injured palm, he looked down at her.

"Consider your apology accepted," he said, stepping back, "keep pressure on your hand. The bleeding needs to lessen before it can be bandaged."

"Can't you heal me?" Jenna asked, pressing the cloth into her hand and raising it.

"Drinking Vampire blood has side effects, he said, "given my age, if you were to consume my blood for anything but a mortal wound, they would be numerous and unpleasant."

"I have to drink your blood?" Jenna asked with a look of disgust.

"If you were dying it would not matter," Elijah said dismissively, "the survival instinct is stronger than your disgust."

"Hey, you've been drinking blood for a thousand years, but I don't believe for a second that you weren't grossed out by it."

Elijah's lips curved into the barest smile, remembering all too well how disgusted he'd been at the prospect of what he had to do to survive. He had only been the first to consume blood because he was the eldest. And because he was the only one who Klaus would even consider listening too. Even so he had been unable to take the blood straight until _she_ had figured out to mix it with his father's strongest brandy. When mixed correctly burn of liquor had masked the taste of the blood and while he had wandered around drunk for four days while they got the proportions right, Klaus began to consume blood and once more their lives were safe.

"Perhaps," he said finally, "a very long time ago," he continued, "but as I am among the first Vampires, my reaction to being told I would need to consume blood to survive was understandable."

"So you guys now drink donated blood?" Jenna asked.

"Yes," Elijah said, "it is easier for all if people do not continuously turn up with significantly less blood in their bodies and bites on their necks."

"Yeah, I could see how that would be a problem," Jenna said, "there were attacks here a while ago. People said it was an animal, but the local goth kids had a field day with all that Vampire crap," she paused and shook her head, "sorry, i guess they were right."

"I assume you can understand why the secrecy of this is paramount," Elijah said.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to go running through town shouting about vampires," Jenna assured him, "though this might be the only place in the world where people would actually believe me."

"Only those who know about Vampires," Elijah pointed out.

"Which seems to be everyone, now that I know," Jenna pointed out.

"Mystic Falls does have a significant population of those aware of the supernatural," he said, "though the town does have a history with the species."

"Of course it does," Jenna said rolling her eyes. She frowned, "I don't get it," she said, "why do you study history? You lived through most of it."

"Surviving is not the same as understanding," Elijah said with a slight frown before his features relaxed again, "when you have lived as long as I have, you see that history repeats itself quite often."

"So it wasn't just a cover?" Jenna asked. Elijah shook his head and Jenna felt relieved that there was some honesty in the world.

"Your hand has stopped bleeding," Elijah said, breaking the momentary silence. Rising to his feet he exited the room before returning with a simple first aid kit in a white box, "my apologies," Elijah said holding out the bandages to her, "it would be best if you did this on your own."

"Oh, _oh_," Jenna quickly grabbed the bandages with her free hand, heat building in her cheeks at idea that she had committed some kind of Vampire-human faux pas, "sorry, hang on," she fumbled before taking a deep breath, steadying herself and wrapping her hand with the gauze, "can you still-" she hesitated, "smell it?"

"Yes," he said, "but you need not be concerned."

"I'm not," Jenna said.

Elijah's eyes narrowed but Jenna forced herself to be still under his inspection. It was odd how that one thing could be alright, how she could believe that he had himself under control. Maybe it was the thousand years of claimed experience, maybe it was the fact that his only outburst seemed to have been emotional, but for whatever reason, Jenna knew the Vampire sitting across from her wouldn't harm her. Picking up her glass, Jenna drained the last of it for courage and looked at the Vampire.

"Can I-" Jenna blushed, "can I see what happened to Stefan's face again?"

Elijah looked at the human, feeling oddly entranced by the speed with which the pale rose on her cheeks darkened to red. She seemed to sense the question was, on some level, offensive. it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he was not a sideshow freak for her amusement or an experiment for the more scientific part of her mind. But he recognized the request for what it was, the plea that hovered behind it. For what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, he conceded to a woman's request.

"Come here," Elijah said, motioning to the seat beside him.

Jenna came slowly to the couch. Elijah turned to face her, his eyes locking with hers as his hand covered hers. Jenna held her breath as the vein's under his eyes darkened and swelled. The dark began to color his scleras and his irises lightened while his pupils expanded. She watched as his lips parted, his jaw opening to accommodate the fangs that slid out of his gums. Her breath left her in a rush as she stared at him, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. If Stefan's face had been the stuff of nightmares then Elijah's face was the stuff of nightmares, horror movies and hallucinations all rolled into one. The differences were subtle but they made him even more terrifying.

She could see why Elijah wanted her close. His hands on hers were the only thing keeping her sitting on the couch. Forcing herself to breathe, Jenna looked at the vampiric features. It helped that in spite of them Elijah's features remained as enigmatic and serene as ever. As if this was a normal, every day occurrence.

"Does it hurt?" Jenna asked.

"Not anymore," Elijah answered, his voice only slightly affected by his fangs. His eyes glanced downwards at her hand before they quickly went up to her face.

The vampiric features slipped away as smoothly as they had come, leaving the familiar refined, slightly aristocratic features in their wake. Jenna fought the urge to gasp at how easily they flowed away, like dirt washed off of his face at the end of the day. Only his slightly parted lips spoke of the nightmarish mask that had donned his face. Soon they closed and the only reminder of it was in her head. Jenna opened her mouth and then closed it, hesitant to speak. Elijah looked at her curiously.

"I wasn't expecting you to look like, well, like you," she admitted.

"I have been a vampire for much longer than i was a human," Elijah said.

Jenna looked up at him, something almost like hope in her eyes and exhaustion roared up for the Vampire. Suddenly the day seemed endless, as if allowing himself to be so close to fresh blood but not partake was somehow the last straw. It was not like his earlier, embarrassing outburst, this was simply exhaustion that seemed to grow worse at the prospect of having to unravel the mysteries of whether or not he still had a soul. When humans tried to find the differences between Vampires and themselves, they inevitably went for the question of the soul.

"You have a room here, I assume," he said before she could bring up the question.

"Yes," Jenna replied, "it's upstairs."

Elijah nodded and got to his feet. Hastily Jenna stood up, feeling the room spin slightly. Even so she knew the idea that she could exhibit a fraction of his grace was a ludicrous one. Feeling even more like she had two left feet, Jenna tried to smile in the direction of the enigmatic Vampire before heading up the stairs. Elijah walked next to her, allowing her to go before him through the narrow hallways in an odd show of chivalry. When they arrived at the room she had been given, Jenna opened the door to the bedroom and turned to face him.

"Do I need to invite you in?" Jenna asked.

"It is not strictly necessary," Elijah said, "once the invitation is given at the front door, it extends to the entirety of the house. But a thousand years has taught me it is unwise to enter a woman's bedroom uninvited."

"I'd hope it'd take less than that," Jenna said folding her arms over her chest and leaning against the doorframe, but making no move to invite him inside.

Elijah looked at her for a moment, seemingly considering something before he slid his hand into his pants pocket and produced a slip velvet box.

"Take this," Elijah said, extending the narrow box to her, "you've already been compelled to stop taking your vervain, "this will help deter another Vampire from attacking you."

Jenna accepted the box with unusually clumsy fingers. Carefully pulling open the top, her eyes widened at the sight of the bracelet laying there. Silver twisted itself into an impossibly intricate vine, buds so detailed they may have been real if not for their color rose from the metal, just high enough to store crushed leaves inside. Jenna looked at the bracelet and back at Elijah.

"I can't accept this," she said, thinking of the drastic difference between the simple charm Elena wore around her neck and the work of art she held in her hands, "this is-" she fumbled for the right word, her finger touching the grooves of the message engraved along the inside, "this is too special."

Elijah resisted the urge to let out a sigh of exasperation at the woman in front of him. It was a bracelet, unable to grace the wrist of the woman for whom it was originally intended. But it would do it's job regardless. Even if it had not done so in nearly a thousand years. Knowing it was useless to fight her, instead he nodded at her ridiculous antics.

"Consider it a loan," he said, "I will find you something more suitable shortly."

Jenna looked at him sharply before finally nodding her agreement to the compromise. Lifting the silver out of the box, she was surprised at the weight of it. She placed her hand on the top of the bracelet but the silver was smooth and it began to slip almost immediately. Swearing, Jenna went to shift the box when Elijah's fingers stopped her.

With sure movements the Vampire fixed the clasp of the bracelet, his fingertips brushing against the pulse that fluttered in her wrist.

"Thanks," Jenna said softly, "I've never been good with these things."

Elijah nodded, though if she was referring to the bracelet clasp or something else, he had no idea. His fingertips tingled where they had lingered against the pulse in her wrist, the promise of live, fresh blood still so utterly tempting. Jenna held his gaze with her own, unwilling to look away from him first. It was petty and foolish and yet Elijah found it difficult to look away from her, to let her have a small victory in a sea of such crushing defeat.

"Goodnight, Jenna," he said, turning away from her.

Jenna looked at his back, torn between holding her silence or revealing what she had learned. The weight of him running off was still fresh in her mind but she knew that if she went to bed with one more secret hanging over her head, she was going to go mad. It was selfish and he deserved better after what he had done for her that night, but the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"It's a beautiful name," Jenna blurted out, pausing the Vampire in his tracks, "Charlotte. Elena's grandmother was named Charlotte, the Gilbert's use it a lot. But Miranda said that she didn't want her daughter to be named after dead people."

"A wise decision," Elijah said, turning to face her, his face giving away nothing, "the dead steal our peace enough as it is."

"Look, I know you're not going to tell me why they picked her," Jenna said, running a thumb across the bracelet, the engraving hidden against her skin, "and I'm sorry that you had to watch her die twice, but I need to know that Elena's not just a replacement for her."

Elijah met her gaze and Jenna felt her resolve weaken, though she kept her eyes locked with his. The Vampire's face was as frighteningly blank as it had been before. But Jenna held her ground, refusing to look away. Everything was so fucked up, so _wrong_, but all Jenna could think about was that somehow Elena was a replacement. A replacement for a long dead woman and a Vampire who had a mean streak a mile wide. Something in her needed to know that someone was protecting Elena simply because she was Elena.

"I do not have it in me to see Elena as a replacement for her," Elijah replied before his features hardened, "which is unfortunate, as the elixir that may save your niece's life was procured through my desperation and inability to separate the doppelganger from her original."

"Are you lying?" Jenna demanded.

Elijah looked at her silently for a moment before turning away.

"Wait," Jenna lunged forward, her hand grabbing him, "damn it, I didn't mean-"

Her fingers curved about his wrist. Everything in Elijah went into overload at the simple touch. Her hand was smooth, the only callouses coming from where she gripped her pen too tightly. It was the hand of an academic, of a woman who lived in a world where lives were not decided on the glint of steel and food was bought, not grown. The hand of a woman who had barely lived at all.

He looked at her hand and then at her face.

"I have lived for a thousand years," Elijah told her, "they are all I have."

"I don't believe that for a second," she snapped, daring to contradict him, "downstairs, you were more honest with me than the man I love or the people I thought I could trust. You gave me answers."

Elijah looked down at the woman whose hand was still wrapped tightly around his wrist, Charlotte's silver bracelet glinting in the light. It struck him how oddly proper it was for the bracelet to find it's way onto the wrist of a woman like her. He could see the fear in her face, hear it in the quicker beat of his heart and yet she made no move to remove her hand from his wrist.

"Then perhaps you will give me something in return," he said, "do not alienate them. You are loved, more than that, you know you are loved which is more than most people will know in a thousand lifetimes. Do not waste that."

Jenna looked up at him, her head nodding her agreement so quickly she would have thought he compelled her if not for the silver bracelet that twined around her wrist. Elijah looked at her for a moment longer before stepping back. Jenna forced her fingers to loosen and let his wrist pull away, though her hand immediately felt empty without his cool skin. Holding her hands forcibly at her sides, Jenna kept her eyes locked with the Vampire. Elijah held her gaze for a moment longer before shifting his weight. It was a subtle movement but enough to jar her out of the stare.

"I should probably-" she motioned back towards her bedroom, "but thank you, for-" she trailed off with a nervous smile.

"You're welcome," Elijah said, bringing the conversation a seamless conclusion.

"Goodnight Elijah," Jenna said.

"Goodnight," Elijah replied as she turned to go. " and Jenna?" Jenna paused, turning to look at him, "there is a crossbow hidden underneath every bed in this house. I suggest you bring it with you."

Jenna looked at him, wondering briefly where in the world he would get the idea that she knew what to do with a crossbow. He seemed to, however, to have exactly that opinion and for some reason she did not want to linger on, Jenna liked the idea that he thought she could handle herself.

"Thanks," she said with a smile, "I'll do that."

* * *

**The end! Idk, I was way more upset by Elijah's actions then Jenna dying, but I liked the way the two of them interacted. Not as much as I like the idea that Elijah and the original Petrova had something going on. Now THAT might turn into another oneshot. **

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed!**


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